"I thought you'd never ask," Carl said with a mysterious smile, his hand disappearing into the folds of his robes.
After a moment of searching, he took out a small booklet and held it out to Elric.
"Here's the list we, the Quarath Academy, came up with," he said.
Elric reached for it eagerly, but Carl pulled it back at the last second, narrowing his eyes.
"Return it tomorrow. Understood?"
Exasperated, Elric nodded. Only then did Carl hand over the booklet.
"Alright, I still have some things to take care of," Carl said, rising to his feet.
Elric said "Thank you, Carl."
Carl gave a dismissive wave, meeting Elric's gaze.
"No problem. If you really want to thank me, win the tournament for our academy," he said, a wry smile playing on his lips. Then, tossing a final glance over his shoulder, he added, "Alright, I'm off."
“I’ll do my best” said Elric solemnly before Carl walked away.
Neve, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, finally spoke.
"Why did you want that list?" she asked.
"Just to be sure," Elric replied with a shrug, he then added, "It's getting late. Are you hungry?"
"Slightly," Neve said calmly, though a flicker of eagerness in her voice betrayed her true feelings.
Rising to his feet, Elric said as he headed toward a nearby staff member, "This hotel should have a restaurant."
Neve quickly stood and followed close behind.
They approached the staff member, asked for directions, and, after a few quick turns through the sprawling hallways, soon found their destination.
Pushing open the two large doors, they were immediately greeted by a wave of rich, mouthwatering aromas that flooded their senses.
Before them stretched an enormous hall, easily the size of a football field, filled with rows of tables packed with diners—at least a hundred guests—eating, laughing, and chatting animatedly.
Along the aisles, buffet trails were arranged every few rows, laden with all kinds of dishes, ensuring no one had to walk far to refill their plates.
"You forgot to ask if we have to pay," Neve said from beside him, swallowing lightly.
"We've got the money. But if it’s free, even better" Elric shrugged, gulping as well.
Not in the mood to argue with that logic, Neve took the lead, striding toward one of the nearby buffet trails. She grabbed a clean plate and immediately began piling it with food.
"So this is the real Miss Alone," Elric muttered under his breath — then froze, glancing nervously left and right.
When no one seemed to have heard, he let out a small sigh of relief and scolded himself inwardly. I can't let my guard down.
Following after her, he grabbed a plate of his own and started stacking it high.
It took them a few minutes to find an empty table in the bustling hall, but once they did, they settled in and began eating, the lively chatter from surrounding tables washing over them.
"Who do you guys think is going to win the tournament?" a young man, sitting on a nearby table, asked excitedly while chewing on some food.
One of the young man's friends answered after taking a long drink of water, "Univara has the best shot at it."
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"Erlic, huh?" the first man said, then added, "Altura’s not bad either. They've got that guy—what’s his name? The prodigy with the sword. Can’t remember it right now."
In front of Elric, the faint, strained sound of metal twisting caught his attention.
Glancing up from his plate, he saw Neve silently mangling her fork, bending it so severely it now resembled a crumpled ball of silver.
Elric raised an eyebrow but said nothing, shaking his head slightly before turning back to his food and the conversation around them.
"You mean Roland the Sword Fanatic?" another voice chimed in.
"Yeah, that's the one. Heard he’s already cleared almost a dozen Green portals."
Shrugging, one of the men said, "He’s good, but he's still just on the same level as Neve."
Elric felt a weight settle on the table, more precisely, in front of him, almost caving in the table.
"Are you okay?" he asked tentatively, glancing at Neve.
No response.
"Don’t let these comments get to you," he tried again, his gaze lingering on Neve, who appeared perfectly composed, as though nothing had been said.
Still no reply.
Seeing her stone-faced and unresponsive, Elric sighed, his concern fading into frustration. He gave up and returned to his meal.
The two sat in silence, listening to the endless chatter around them. Names were tossed about carelessly, each description sounding more exaggerated than the last. Some even fabricated outlandish tales, eager to prove their point on who would win the tournament.
Half an hour later, having finished their meal, they stood up, and Elric approached a nearby staff member while Neve stood aside, lost in her thoughts.
"Was the food free?" he asked.
The woman’s lips twitched, clearly surprised that someone had eaten before even considering such a simple rule. She replied politely, "Y-Yes."
"Perfect!" Elric grinned brightly as he and Neve walked out of the hall.
As they strolled down the corridor, Elric hesitated before asking again, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
This time, Neve responded, her voice so cold it felt like it could freeze the very air around them.
"Alright," Elric said, trying to keep things light. "I’m going to my room to study the list we got."
As they reached the stairway leading up, Neve abruptly turned toward him, her eyes sharp.
"I want to check it out too."
Taken aback, Elric blinked before offering a smile, "Sure, my room or yours?"
Neve’s gaze became glacial, and the chill of it made Elric quickly backtrack.
"Main hall it is," he muttered awkwardly.
Neve gave a curt nod, and the two turned back toward the hall, eventually finding a pair of couches by a small table in the middle.
Elric pulled out the booklet and placed it on the table, both of them leaning in as they began to sift through its contents.
The descriptions were brief but informative. Each person had a dedicated page, listing basic details like hair color, eye color, preferred weapon, and combat style. Occasionally, there was a small sketch to accompany the information, offering a crude but helpful image of the individual.
At the bottom of each page, there were small handwritten notes — likely either Carl’s or the Quarath Academy’s personal observations.
The notes often compared the students to others on the list, speculating on how they might fare in a head-to-head match. Some included brief opinions on who would win in certain pairings, providing a glimpse into their strengths.
It didn’t take long before they landed on a page with a name they had just heard.
Roland – The Sword Fanatic
They skimmed through the description, but it was the notes at the bottom of the page that caught their attention.
Roland might be strong due to wielding the sword, one of the best weapons for offense. But in all honesty, he doesn’t have much of a shot at winning the tournament. At best, he’ll reach the top 5—and that’s being generous. He’s on the same level as Neve Whitlock from Univara Academy and William Green from Tritus Academy.
Threat Level: 6/10
Elric heard a soft scoff escape Neve’s lips. Looking up, he saw her muttering something under her breath, too quiet for him to catch. Then, to his surprise, she stood abruptly.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
Neve didn’t look back, her voice flat as she said, "To my room," and continued walking toward the stairway.
Elric shook his head, watching her until she disappeared around the corner. He muttered under his breath, "Oh Roland, you might’ve caught the biggest stray here."
With a small sigh, he turned the page.
Neve Whitlock – The Cold Beauty
Elric couldn’t help himself—he burst out laughing, the sound unexpectedly loud in the quiet hall. A few people nearby turned to look at him, their curious gazes making him pause.
Quickly catching himself, Elric sheepishly smiled at the onlookers before turning his attention back to the booklet, his mind racing.
This might’ve lifted her mood... I wonder who came up with these names.
Not bothering to read her description, he skipped directly to the notes at the bottom of the page:
Threat Level: 6/10
"Indeed, same as Roland," Elric muttered with a chuckle, his mind lingering on the image of Neve's face when she’d been compared to the ‘Sword Fanatic.’
Flipping to the final page, he found his own name. He didn’t bother reading it, instead closing the booklet with a quick motion and tucking it into one of his pockets.
There are only one or two real contenders in this tournament. The rest are just filler. But that’s fine—it makes this mission a whole lot easier. I can wrap it up quickly and get back to training.
With that thought, Elric stood up and made his way toward the stairway, heading toward his room.
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